Chương 13: Ancient Monstrosity

After several minutes of maneuvering through the jungle of stalagmites, Nero finally found the gate leading into the boss room. And it was exactly opposite to what he'd expected.

"It's a crack in the wall…" he looked around himself. In front was the end of the tunnel.

"I've come all this way, and there's no other door leading into anything even remotely resembling a 'chamber.'" He circled the crack for several minutes, at times literally peeking into it, but to no avail.

"It's too dark inside. Also," he turned to his side; overhead, the safe zone's circle of green was also beginning to dim. Right then, he felt a trembling noise emanating from within the crack, as some rock debris fell on him. Nero didn't react, and instead observed the events for a bit longer. He noticed that the thinner the safe zone's boundary light got, the more the trembling intensified. It's like some kind of countdown.

Although his lantern's blue light couldn't penetrate the darkness within the crack enough to see anything, he could still feel the breadth of space that existed beyond it. He even prodded it with the backside of his short spear, to no discernible response. The green light of the safezone outside had also finally begun to almost completely fade away. The tremor in response had grown severe enough that he felt like the cracked wall would collapse on him at any moment and flatten him.

Also, if that rat boss comes out at me now, in this particular hollowed tunnel, I'd be done for. Nero breathed in deeply, sucking in some dust particles in the process. But ignoring that, he weighed his options. He couldn't exit the dungeon—not anymore; there was no time left. He couldn't fight through that slippery hell of stalagmites either, not if the rat boss burst forth at any moment. Nor could he afford to keep standing in front of this gateway into the unknown. He'd get flattened.

"Hah," he heaved a sigh, and tightened his grip on the short spear. Looking at the space beyond the crack, he felt shivers run through him just imagining fighting some hulking monstrosity in that pitch-black darkness. But then again, the tingling sensation running through his muscles gave him a strange sort of excitement.

"What a dilemma," he said, giving a pained smile. He stood in place for a few seconds more before squeezing through the crack anyway.

"It'd be high risk with no reward today if I die." He reminded himself of that, stepping into the area beyond the crack. The moment he stepped to the other side, the trembling slowly died out. Nero flashed his lantern's light ahead with one hand, while gripping his short spear with the other. His heart slammed against his chest, as still, he could barely see anything in front of him. Just then, the sound of something heavy and sharp scraping against stone came from ahead.

And as if a cloth had caught fire, green flame burst forth in front of him. Nero immediately stumbled back several steps until his shoulders hit the wall.

"What in the…" he trailed off as the green fire hissed against the darkness, coiling into two scythes.

"Floating scythes? Wait, no…" Nero's eyes widened as he saw the one wielding them. No, those are limbs… of a rat. An enormous rat to be precise, the thing easily stood three feet tall. Its body was covered in chaotic, ruffled, filthy fur, with eyes so green and blinding it hurt just to look at. The flowing flames around its scythed limb seemed to scorch the air itself, hissing sinisterly. The creature braced its weight against the floor with its claws as it rose. Its long beard nearly reached the ground.

It didn't screech, didn't roar, didn't lash out the way Nero had expected. Instead, it simply stood there, staring at him with its neon-lit eyes, softly scraping the stone below with the nails of its feet. Nero took a deep breath and smiled nervously.

"You know, old man," he addressed the ancient rat, "I don't think you belong in an E-rank dungeon." Nero swiftly turned away, ignoring the pounding of his excited heart. He didn't want to die because of some momentary thrill. That thing looks nothing like the bosses corpses of the bosses I've harvesting at Red Rats! He silenced his nerves and began searching for the crack to get out of there. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

"Huh?" He looked from side to side, at the wall behind him where he'd entered.

"The crack—where'd it go?" Nero asked, bewildered. He snapped back instantly toward the old neon rat the moment it made a sound. Sparks scattered off the hard granite floor as the old rat advanced slowly, dragging its giant scythes, its face devoid of any aggression or expression whatsoever. A deep sense of unease swept through Nero. There was no way out of this chamber, not anymore.

And while he'd entered eagerly, expecting some bulky, aggressive giant rat boss like the many he'd seen while harvesting before, he'd instead encountered this anomaly. Still, the hum in his limbs at least kept Nero from freezing in place out of fear. He shifted his priority from escape to survival. The neon rat drew closer, and Nero crouched low, spear in hand. One advantage of those flames was that they made the boss easier to track.

The moment he sensed the jade-green flame flicker on its scythe, Nero immediately rolled away from its front, just as a gout of flame slammed into the spot where he'd been standing. Nero immediately stood and bolted for the other side of the chamber, putting more distance between himself and the old rat.

"Hah… haah," he breathed roughly, more from panic than fear.

"What was that… I could barely see its scythe move… and those flames." He glanced back at the spot where the flame had struck. It still glowed faintly with light green as the grayish-black rocks began to sizzle softly. The old rat turned and advanced toward him again, slowly, sinisterly closing the distance as if it had all the time in the world. Nero didn't react—instead, he watched, keeping his senses sharp, ready for that flicker of flame before the scythe struck.

The first time, the strike had caught him off guard and he'd barely seen it move. This time, Nero jumped aside and turned the instant the flame flickered. Half a second later, the strike followed. Flames crashed against the wall of his previous position, turning it into a sizzling mess of green and charred rot. Nero noticed a pattern—the old rat moved like one of those golems stationed outside the banks, with a set pattern of attacks.

The only issue was that its movements were nearly impossible to perceive, and far too destructive for a simple, unranked adventurer like him to handle. I'd basically be toast if I got hit by that even once. For now, Nero focused on dodging. The old neon rat pivoted on its heels and resumed its march toward him. Nero crouched low again, keeping his eyes locked on the approaching monster. The moment he sensed the flicker in its scythes' flames, he jumped sideways, spinning his body to study how the rat attacked.

For the first time, he saw its movement clearly—it dropped onto all fours, using its two scythed limbs as front legs. The creature broke into a horrifying four-legged sprint, stopped just in front of the wall where he'd stood moments before, and swiped both claws down with all its weight behind them. Neon-green fire howled out and struck the wall as if it were mere wood. All of it happened within a moment. Chills ran down Nero's spine at the maneuver.

The strike was fast, clean, and brutal enough to have severed his lower half from his upper half in a single hit. And burned them both to ash. Nero quickly bolted from his spot toward the opposite side of the cave—the place where the boss had originally stood before his arrival, and the farthest point from the creature's current position. As his blue lantern light illuminated the space ahead, Nero accidentally stepped on something white, which cracked loudly beneath his foot.

He bent to look; the shattered pieces appeared yellowed, with something viscous and wet clinging to them. It was bony, almost like a skull. Skull of what? He didn't have to search long for an answer—just a few steps ahead, he found a massive pile of skulls stacked atop one another. Most were dried out, yellowed, and broken. But the ones on top made him immediately avert his eyes, fighting down the bile rising in his stomach. Living skulls—with skin and eyes still attached—skulls of humans, elves, and other beasts.

They looked horrific. He'd spent most of his adventuring career as a harvester; scenes like this were rarely, if ever, shown to him. Nero shook his head. It wasn't the time to be horrified, or to grieve for the dead. The old rat of blazing fire had turned again and was heading straight for him, dragging its two sinister, venomous scythed limbs. If he let himself be distracted by grief for the suffering of the dead behind him, he'd soon join them too.

"Not the time," he reminded himself, gripping the short spear tightly enough to hurt. He crouched low again, bracing for the old rat's charge. Its gleaming jade eyes stared fixedly into the void.

"Old man, keep staring at empty space like that and people will think you're in love with someone." He laughed to himself, trying to settle his racing heart. The rat remained unmoved, but Nero had no intention of moving this heartless bastard's stare anyway. It walked like a human, but it wasn't one. And the moment the flames on its scythe flared again, Nero jumped to his right, just far enough to escape its striking range, but close enough to remain within his own.

As if caught in a loop, the old rat closed the distance to his previous location within a heartbeat and struck down over the pile of skulls. Nero struck back immediately, driving forward with all his weight as the spear tip plunged through its left side and into its kidney. And for the first time, the old rat showed an expression. It slowly and shakily turned its head toward Nero, its brows wrinkling into a frown as its mouth parted to reveal rows of dark, filthy teeth.

Then, as if struck by lightning, its face snapped upward, staring straight into the ceiling as a wail tore from its throat, booming across the hallowed chamber.